Monsters

There is a darkness in me. I used to think it was because of events in my life.  

The first time I saw evidence of it in one of my children I was devastated. I thought that I had somehow caused it, that I had tainted the child with my own darkness. 

I now realize that there is darkness in all of us. 

It's like there are monsters living in our heads. I can't remember where I read that, but it rang true to me. 

We all have them, locked down in cages in our psyches. Some people have tight control of their monsters, and if one were to ever escape they would be brought back under control by any means necessary.  Other people's monsters seem to roam freely, causing chaos and destruction where ever the person goes. 

Most of us are somewhere in the middle. Our monsters are occasionally brought out to play, then get put back after they've had some exercise. 

Those monsters - our darkest fears, our deepest hopes, our scars and wounds that never quite heal - they're part of us. They make us who we are, just as much as our public personas do. 

Anxiety

My girl has just spent the last 2 months visiting her father for the first time since she came home. I picked her up at the airport on Sunday. I couldn't really relax until I saw her beautiful face.
She called me every day she was gone, and texted me that she wanted to come home.
I'm so glad to have her back.
I haven't checked her for fresh cuts. I'm too afraid. I know I need to. I just need everything to be ok for a little longer.
I'm a coward, I know.

Outburst

Yesterday was an emotional day.
The girl has been shirking her chores, and I called her on it. It ended up with her shrieking in my face. When I asked her later what that had been about, her answer was "I have no idea".
Thankfully, we see the therapist today.

I hate feeling like I have to walk on eggshells around my child. I hate not being able to leave a teenager alone because I'm afraid she'll hurt herself.
And I really hate that I let myself get pulled into an altercation with a 14 year old.

I need to talk to the therapist to learn tools for dealing with this.

I was terrified every time she left the room for the rest of the day, wondering if she was cutting herself, how bad it would be, and if she would go too far.

Today, everything is back to normal.

Fear

A relapse tonight.
Just one cut, but a bad one. Emergency room bad.
As soon as she did it, she came to me. She kept telling me "I didn't mean to do it", and calling herself stupid. She handed over the blades to me without a hesitation.
I think she scared herself.
She went right through the skin and exposed the adipose tissue.
She scared me.
I tried to get her to allow the stitches, and she agreed, but then she had a panic attack when the doctor tried to put the stitches in, and we ended up having the nurse put steri-strips on instead.
She said she saw the blade, and was thinking about the situation she just got out of, and just did it on impulse.

As I'm sitting in the ER with her the guilt kicked in. I couldn't help but wonder if I somehow made her like this. If I broke her when she was little with my own pain.
I just don't know.